Mischief On Earth
by drizzlestarstone
Summary: Loki pinched the toy between two fingers and regarded it with frowning eyes. "So what is so special about this Teddy that you keep him in your chambers every night? Does it give you strength? Rejuvenate your spirits?" Kyra stared. She blinked for a moment. "It's a character. From Mr Bean? Don't you have cartoons in Asgard?"
1. Synopsis

Loki pinched the toy between two fingers and regarded it with frowning eyes. "So what is so special about this Teddy that you keep him in your chambers every night? Does it give you strength? Rejuvenate your spirits?"

Kyra stared. She blinked for a moment.

"It's a character. From Mr Bean? Don't you have cartoons in Asgard?"

Meet Loki Laufeyson. Son of Odin, God of Mischief, Master of Trickery. Also powerless and banished, exiled by his father Odin to Midgard, to teach him a lesson just like how he taught Thor.

Meet Kyra Pierce. Struggling journalist, unlucky in love. Also the first person Loki meets on Earth, and to which he is bounded to for a one month, because Loki needs to grant her any three wishes, to appease Odin and convince him he has changed, so he can return home.

Loki might have been able to handle war, conflict and death, but can he handle the crazy hubbub of one girl's quirky and messed up social life?

 **first published on Wattpad**


	2. Of Disendowments And Dwarves

"Loki. Do you confess to your crimes? Are you aware of your wrongdoings, and is willing to do penance?"

Sitting on the royal throne, King Odin of Asgard looked down at his son. His face was lined with years of burden beared, of wars fought and trials suffered. As usual it betrayed no emotion; here was yet another criminal kneeling before him in chains, and all that remained was to pass judgement.

No one could see the lump of regret that caught in his throat and the heaviness that squatted on his chest.

On the grand hall's marble floors, Loki looked up. His face was sallow and pale from the one week spent in the dungeons. His long black hair hung limp and straggly over his face, covering one of his eyes. His golden armour and long flowing cape had been removed, along with the helmet on his head.

His sceptre with its shimmering blue gemstone had also been taken away. Now all he had left was the clothes he wore on him - a black tight-fitting garment, long trousers and a greenish-black leather cloak with shoulder pads.

Despite his dishevelled appearance, the hint of a smile played on his lips. Ignoring the question, he tilted his head back and inhaled deeply.

There was a sharp and loud crack as the base of a metal spear was thumped down against the ground. Herrick Geir, head of the Einherjar - elite warriors who guarded the Asgardian palace - demanded fiercely,

"Do you not hear the King's question? Answer His Majesty, you criminal!"

Loki held up a hand, his nose still breathing in the air.

"Patience. I haven't breathed this crisp, fresh air for seven days. Seven. It's terrible I tell you. The dungeon air is really bad for one's complexion." He looked back down to the throne, his smile sly. "No wonder you look like a mummified Asgardian dwarf all the time, Herrick."

Leaning in close, he hushed his voice to a conspiratorial whisper.

"I used to think you were the product of a one night stand your father had with a female dwarf because he was too drunk to think clearly." He laughed. "The ideas my head dreams up! Well now I know." He shook his head, clucking his tongue in sympathy. "That accursed dungeon air..."

Herrick's eyes blazed at the insult. He drew himself up straight, his voice furious.

"My father is an honorable man who has never engaged himself in such immoral acts! I demand you apologize immediately!"

"For what?" Loki shrugged. "For letting my imagination run away from me while I was sitting bored in the dungeon, or for stating the truth about your less than pleasant appearance?"

Herrick's anger boiled over and he took a threatening step down from the dias.

"You - "

Odin's raised hand stopped him.

"Peace Herrick. Loki is but a dog barking at his chains. He is mere noise. He can do you no harm."

"Noise can do you harm," Loki popped in. "How else do people lose their hearing later in life?"

"My liege," said Herrick, bowing his head at Odin. "It is clear that this criminal will never repent. He is evil and will stay evil for the rest of his life. Asgard has no need for such scum. Let the executioner's axe take care of him."

At the mention of the word "axe", Loki strained forward against his chains.

"Wait!" It was a desperate cry. "I confess!"

The King of Asgard and his loyal retainer turned to face the prisoner. Herrick looked disgruntled. Asgardian law provided leniency for criminals willing to repent. It seemed that he would not be getting the pleasure of seeing Loki's head fall beneath the blade of an axe.

Odin leaned forward. "Are you admitting to your sins? Are you willing to repent?"

Loki dipped his head low and nodded a few times in quick succession.

"Yes," His voice was a mournful, regretful sigh. "Yes I confess."

He looked up, an expression of deep sorrow. "Father..." he began.

Odin waited.

Loki took a deep breath.

"I confess that it was me. I did it. Back when we were children it was me who stole a bite out of Mother's pie, not Thor. You punished the wrong person that day. I'm willing to accept your punishment now. It's been years, but better late than never right?"

Incensed beyond words, Herrick slammed his spear three times against the floor.

"Insolence!" he roared. "My liege, you see the crude behaviour he displays! We should not waste anymore time with this cur!"

Loki nodded empathetically.

"For once the dwarf is right!" Herrick looked ready to tear Loki apart limb by limb. "If it's the axe for me then for Mercy's sake do swing it! It's not that I don't love our little talks, it's just...Herrick sounds too much like a dying banshee. It's grating my ears. I might be about to go deaf. And you say noise can't harm you?"

Odin looked down at his son. Even though Loki was subdued in chains, traces of careless arrogance lingered in his posture.

"My liege!" Herrick protested.

Odin did not respond. He kept his eyes on Loki.

"Do you really have no more sins that you are willing to admit to?" he asked.

Loki frowned in concentration.

"Well...except for stealing the pie, and riding your horse without your permission - which I only did once - plus throwing an apple at Thor's head when I was six...no."

His green eyes met Odin's calm gray ones. His voice was unmoved and steady.

"I have committed no other crimes."

Odin watched his rebellious son for a moment. He sank back into his throne, and his voice was clear and firm as he pronounced his judgement.

"Very well. Loki Laufeyson! You are found guilty of the following crimes - treason against Asgard by abetting the Frost Giants in crime, attempting to steal the palace's power casket and murder of a dozen innocent mortal lives.

"By Asgardian law, the gravity of your crimes guarantees an immediate spot for your head on the executioner's block."

Herrick looked over at Loki, his gloating smirk wide and grinning.

Odin paused.

"The Asgardian law also demands that judgement be fair to all under similar circumstances. Which is why you, Loki Laufeyson, will not be executed as punishment."

Herrick looked as if he'd discovered that indeed, he truly was the illegitimate child of a dwarf.

"What? My liege!"

Loki arched an eyebrow.

"When Thor dragged Asgard back into war, I punished him by banishing him to Midgard, where he could learn some humility. You are both my sons, even though you might no longer see me as your father. Therefore I will do the same to you."

Odin stood up, his regal robes skirting the marble floor.

"This is your last chance."

Loki cocked his head. "Can I pass? I'd much rather take the axe."

Odin thumped his staff. The scribe nearby poised his pen on paper at once.

"Hear me Loki Laufeyson! The case has been discussed and the judgement decided. You will spend one month in exile on Midgard. You will be stripped of your powers, cut off from Asgard and sent down to Earth! You will not possess any of your abilities! You are now reduced to a human, like the mortals you so wrongfully despise!"

Odin gestured and a servant scurried forward.

Lying in a long silver case and resting on red velvet cloth, was the Chitauri Sceptre.

Placing a hand over the gemstone, Odin muttered strange words in a guttural language. The stone pulsed, sudden and deep, before the blue light dimmed. Loki felt the energy within dissipate, until only a small quantity of it remained.

"As your crimes were greater than that of Thor's, your punishment will be more than just exile."

Odin lifted the sceptre. "You and this sceptre will be bounded to the first mortal you lay eyes upon in Midgard. Within a month, you must use the powers of the sceptre to fulfill his or her three wishes. These wishes are to be used for good intentions only. They cannot be used to maim or harm or kill. "

Odin pointed the sceptre at Loki. "For the duration of your stay, you are not to harm any mortal. You are not allowed to attack any mortal" - here Odin hesitated for a second - "even in self-defense. You are at the complete mercy of the people you meet. Violation of any of these terms equates failure.

"If, within a month you have not seen the error of your ways, then you shall be beheaded by the executioner's axe."

Odin threw the sceptre, which Loki deftly caught. He ran a light finger over the gold metal and smiled.

He looked up at his father.

"You do realize that this is the weapon I used to kill mortals right?"

"I have taken away more than half of its energy. It is now only good to grant wishes."

"A destructive weapon reduced to a genie in a lamp," Loki mused. "How the mighty have fallen."

"Your punishment begins immediately Loki Laufeyson! Bring him to Heimdall!"

Two armoured guards hauled Loki roughly onto his feet. As they marched him away down the hall, Herrick approached Odin and hissed,

"My liege, this is too lenient a punishment for a cold-blooded criminal like him. I fear we will live to regret this."

From down the hall Loki laughed. He had heard every single word.

Without looking back he raised his voice.

"Again the dwarf is right! You will live to regret this!"

The God of Mischief's laughter echoed and bounced around the marble hall long after he had left.


	3. Of Calls And Crushes

Violet fingernails tapped out an agitated, anxious rhythm on the surface of the wooden table.

Legs in blue leggings criss-crossed alternatively and continuously under the table.

An expression of fierce determination glared out from behind midnight-blue rimmed glasses.

"Come on...come on...I can do this..." Kyra Pierce muttered.

Dressed in a purple silk blouse, she had her brow furrowed in concentration, as if she was focused on doing an immensely difficult and intense task.

A telephone receiver was pressed firmly against her left ear, and her fingers had knotted themselves anxiously in the telephone cord.

The steady two-beat dialing tone rang in her ears. She bit her lip. She twisted the telephone cord even more.

And finally -

"Hello! This is LaLuna FM! Who's on the line?"

Kyra straightened up in her seat, her eyes wide and her voice raised in excitement.

"LaLuna FM? Oh my goodness I got through? Am I the lucky fifth caller?"

She'd been trying for the entire week, and today had been the last day for the contest. In fact, this cue to call was the last slot of the night. She hadn't harbored much hope of getting through, but now she had!

"Indeed you are! Congratulations!"

Ecstatic, Kyra jumped up, pushing her chair back violently, hopping and waving the telephone in the air, shrieking.

"I'm the lucky fifth caller! Me! The lucky fifth caller!"

On the other end of the line, the radio announcer was in the middle of saying,

"What is your name - "

Her words cut off abruptly and there was sudden silence.

Kyra frowned. "Hello? Hello?"

No response. The line had gone dead.

Kyra moved the telephone away from her ear and looked at it, a panicky feeling blossoming in her chest as she wandered what had gone wrong.

It took her about half a minute to see the disconnected telephone cord.

Her mouth fell open.

Immediately she recalled the action she had did just now - jumping up and pushing her chair back, which had resulted in the wheels of the swivel chair catching the telephone wire, so instead of rolling over the wire it had dragged it along, resulting in the wire being jerked unceremoniously out of its main socket...

She glared at the chair. Then the telephone wire. Finally she shot the telephone receiver a look.

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW??" she screamed in frustration.

In the cubicle next to her there was a noise like stationery tumbling all over the table. Black rimmed glasses peered out hesitantly over the cubicle divider.

"Are - are you alright Miss Pierce?"

"NO I AM NOT!"

The young man ducked out of sight immediately. After a second he could be heard mumbling,

"O - okay. I - I'll just get back to work then."

Kyra was barely listening. She was tuning the mini radio that sat in the corner of her worktable.

"- so we have a winner! Congratulations John McGeralds, you have won yourself 1000 dollars worth of shopping vouchers!"

Kyra groaned. She slumped down in her seat.

"It should have been me! I was the one who called through first!" She fired a venomous look at the radio. "And why would a guy do with so much shopping vouchers anyway?"

There was light mocking laughter from the cubicle opposite. A honey gold blonde smirked back at Kyra. She stood up, slow and languidly.

Sherria Carrell was wearing a hot pink top and a black pencil skirt. In her right hand was the Prada clutch she always took with her. She was an entire head taller than Kyra, but Kyra knew that was due to the five-inch metallic Miu Mius trodding the carpet.

"Probably to give his darling wife. You know, his soulmate, his partner?" She suddenly snapped her fingers and put on a face of mock sympathy. "But I forgot! You wouldn't know would you? After all, you are the only one among the five of us...that isn't in a relationship."

The smirk grew wider.

"Even Eric has a girlfriend! And he's a nerd." Sherria tossed the bespectacled young man peeking out from his cubicle a dazzling smile. "A cute one though Eric, don't worry."

She looked back at Kyra again and sighed. "Tsk tsk. How sad. To not know love..."

Kyra clenched her jaw. Again with the loveless-spinster label. Was being single a crime?

Of course Kyra knew this was more than just mockery. She had known Sherria since high school, though she balked at the suggestion that you must be great friends then!

Sherlock and Watson are great friends. Hawkeye and Black Widow are great friends. Me and Sherria Carell? More like Cady Heron and Regina George.

When they were in high school, Sherria had developed a crush on a boy named Kevin McAdams. She had been one of the popular girls, and naturally assumed that Kevin would be more than willing to date.

So when she had finally confessed - in public no less, since she wanted the whole school to know this boy was hers - she was left embarassed and mortified when Kevin said she wasn't her type. Stunned, she managed to ask him what was his type then? And he had pointed across the cafe, at a certain teenage girl with long, wavy russet hair and said that that was the girl he had liked for the past three months.

The next week Kevin McAdams and Kyra Pierce were officially dating.

Sherria had had many other guys since then, and Kyra had broken up with Kevin a long time ago, but the humiliating memory of that day remained. Sherria and Kyra were firm archenemies, and that, was that.

Sherria was shaking her head pityingly. "No wonder you can't get a man. You even fail at a simple phone call. How depressing."

Kyra felt like punching her in her rows of perfectly white teeth. Sherria flicked her blonde locks in a classic I'm so fantabulous move and sat down. At that very moment, their boss walked in.

Richard Dean was a fortyish man with a booming beer belly and the taste buds of a connoisseur. He was also chief editor of Tidbits, a magazine that aimed to provide its readers with all the finer details of the latest news.

Now he clapped his hands loudly.

"Alright everyone! It's six pm already, so you know what this means..." He looked around the room, his brown eyes twinkling good-naturedly.

With a hearty, theatrical holler he yelled,

"Journalists assemble!"

There were cheers and everyone got busy clearing up their desks. Within seconds they were gathered in front of their boss, purses and wallets in hand, beaming expectantly.

Richard eyed their prompt response with approval, then intoned solemnly.

"Today, we are off to save the sushi."

At a secluded area tucked away behind a massive behemoth of a building, something was happening.

A cat lazing about suddenly perked up two ears, its fur coat bristling all over. Without warning it took off like a shot.

A minute later, two blackbirds from a nearby tree did the same.

Slowly, the dry leaves on the grass stirred as a wind began to blow.


End file.
